


Return to LA

by mldrgrl



Series: Adventures of The Lady Detective and The Writer [21]
Category: Californication, The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Based on drabble prompts: books and coming homeAnd this lovely gif made by gillyana on tumblr





	

He was loathe to go back to LA.  It wasn’t a scene he was a part of anymore and he didn’t want to fall back into old, bad habits.  Stella understood his reticence and offered to go with him.  He had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t trust him, but that was okay because he didn’t really trust himself.

 

Charlie graciously offered to have the two of them at the beach house, but Hank graciously declined.  He wanted it to be as quick of a trip as possible.  Meet with the lawyers, discuss the terms of selling the rights to his latest book, sign the papers, leave.  It wasn’t supposed to include getting coerced into going to a party in the hills off Mulholland, but that’s what happened.

 

This lifestyle wasn’t him anymore.  The drugs, the women, the alcohol.  He still drank, just no longer to excess and rarely to numb himself from emotional pain.  He didn’t need to do that anymore.  He didn’t  _ want _ to do that anymore.

 

He lost track of Stella when he jumped in to break up a fight between Charlie and Marcy.  In a panic, he went from room to room, trying to find her.  A few women he vaguely recognized put roadblocks in his way, draping themselves around his neck and asking where he’d been.  He shrugged them off and kept searching.  He stole a cigarette from a man’s hand out by the pool and took a few nervous puffs as he walked out of the gate to the road.

 

If there was anything about LA he missed, it was the view on a clear night.  The expanse of lights was just plain beautiful and almost hypnotic.  He sighed in relief, exhaling a plume of smoke when he saw Stella, leaning against the rickety wooden guardrail off the side of the road.

 

“Waiting for someone, Sherlock?” he asked, voice aquiver with anxiety.

 

Stella turned her head towards him and he wind blew her hair gently from her face.  Her eyes went to the cigarette in his hand and he extinguished it under his foot before he got closer.

 

“Needed a bit of air,” she said, turning back to the fence and straightening her back.  He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his cheek against the back of her head before bending to nuzzle her neck and shoulder.  She put his hands over his crossed arms around her middle.

 

“I went a little fucking crazy there for a minute,” he whispered.

 

“Why?”

 

“I couldn’t find you.”

 

“I was going a little fucking crazy in there.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to come.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Is it weird to live in a place for so long and yet it never feels like coming home when I’m here?  It feels like hell.”

 

Stella leaned to the side a little to turn her head towards him.  The wind blew her hair up against his cheek.  Out of the corner of his eye, the lights twinkled in the distance.  It was too bad LA was so destructive because there was something to be said for taking in a beautiful view with a beautiful woman, but he’d seen past the allure and through the facade.

 

“Want to call a car and get out of here?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

He rubbed his cheek against her head and hummed.  “Gimme a minute, I have to let go of you to get my phone and I don’t want to do that just yet.”

 

She smiled and leaned into his nuzzling as she reached back and slid her hands into his coat pockets.  The phone was in his right pocket.  She fished it out as he slid his hands up her front, taking a moment to lightly squeeze her breasts before releasing her to take his phone.  

 

Hank called the Lyft and gave them the address before dropping his phone back in his pocket.  “Ten to fifteen minutes,” he said, gripping the rail with one hand.

 

“Come back here,” she said, softly, stepping into him and pulling his arm back around her.  “I rather liked where you were headed a moment ago.”

 

“You know, I kind of like where I was headed a moment ago too.”

 

“Ten minutes, Watson,” she murmured, tipping her head back to touch her lips to his neck.  “Let’s make the most of this view, shall we?”

 

“You read my mind, Sherlock.”

  
The End

 


End file.
